VI

A Little Off-Beat

Every clatter the carriage made could be heard clear as day. The reinforced wheels rolling over crumbling rocks, the cheap, blurry windows rattling in their loose frames, and especially the floorboards inside the vehicle creaking against the pressure of the five passengers on board.

Alikath, Rosellia, Amira, and Fletch all sat opposite Artemis, eight seething eyes burning holes into the ranger's forehead.

Artemis was a Yuan Ti, a race of muddily documented origins with an uncanny resemblance to desert snakes. Thin forked tongues, scaly patches along their backs and forearms, and a pair of sharp retractable fangs in their mouths all served to put neighbors on edge. Over the years they developed an unshakable reputation as deceitful, manipulative assassins and traitors; a stereotype that Artemis did very little to discredit.

Artemis themself was a smaller figure, reaching no higher than five feet and two inches. Their olive skin was well kept, despite the difficulties that come with caring for smooth flesh and hard scales at once. Their hair, a pitch black pixie cut, implied a youthfulness that mixed well with their scrawny build, but disagreed with their calloused hands and calculating green eyes. It was hard to tell just how old this one was.

Their outfit started brightly colored at the top, a long white undershirt with armored pads of an unusual teal hue. Further down, the palate darkened; their hips were draped in a short navy skirt, and black pants that tucked into their boots. Those boots flared up their ankles and spread at their calves like a set of wings, dipping into the front of their shins in a sharp V shape. They were dressed and armed as an acrobat, to be sure. The quiver of arrows strapped to their back was perhaps the only thing weighing this ranger down. That, and the awkward weight of the four other Ambassadors’ unrelenting glares.

Artemis slapped their knees, and looked out the window; they couldn't see a thing out there. "You can stop staring at me," they mumbled. "Not dumb enough to try all four of you in a cart."

"Don't wanna take my chances," Amira growled. "Ye handled yerself just fine back in town."

"Had a numbers advantage, that's all. I got a bow. What am I gonna do here?"

"You have a shortsword," said Fletch.

Artemis rolled their eyes, grabbed the handle of their sword, and drew it out. They showed it to the group, letting the light of the sun glare across its well-maintained blade, and tossed it flat on the floor. "Happy?"

The group said nothing, and kept staring at them. Artemis crossed their arms, and shrunk. "Makin' me nervous."

"Why do you even want to be here?" Rosellia asked. "Did you really think we were going to want you?"

"Wasn't expecting you to show up in the middle of a job. You came at a bad time, honest. But sure, I knew things'd be tense anyway. You'll get used to it."

"You didn't answer her question," said Alikath.

"Answered one of them...

"...Fine," Artemis sighed. "I volunteered for the Cypress. Ambassadors got a lot of power. Lot of national power. We'd be dumb not to take some for ourselves."

"You're a damn fool if you think we're going to let you use us for personal gain," Rosellia snapped.

"Got a choice? If you did, I bet I wouldn't be here right now."

The group's glare shifted to Alikath, who sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"The Cypress are here to stay," Artemis continued. "Wanna protect the Land District? We're gonna be a big part of that future. So I'll use you how I want."

The party finally stopped their staring, which got Artemis to crack a smile. Rosellia fidgeted nervously with the seams of her dress, pulling at the same three frills on repeat.

"We're stopping at Chesknot once we clear Highland Field, right?" Artemis asked. "That the last stop before we're all together?"

"Hopefully," said Alikath. "And we're meeting in Graycove, specifically. Viktor's gonna be representing the whole region."

"Not surprising," Artemis leaned back, appreciating all the space they had to themself. "Amazed that shithole managed to come together enough to write you back. So, what do you know-"

THUNK. Something heavy fell atop the carriage. Fletch jumped to his feet, and sprawled his arms out to the wall. "WE ARE AMBUSHED!"

Artemis stood up, drawing their bow. Alikath rolled his eyes, but when the carriage came to an early halt, he too reached for his dagger.

"My axe is up there," Amira reminded the group, taking out the tomahawk she kept as a backup.

When the carriage stopped completely, Alikath pressed one palm to the door, and held up the other, to signal for the others to wait for his cue. He waited, listening for another sound from… whatever had just hit their carriage.

Fletch tried to squeeze himself into the cracks between the panels of the wall, much to Amira's annoyance, who hardly had enough space to sit in already. Artemis brushed the fletching of their arrow with their thumb, while Rosellia mumbled something in Aquan under her breath.

Hearing nothing, Alikath closed his hand in a fist, and swung the door open.

He rushed out of the carriage, a spell on standby in his hands. As his feet met grass, he was startled by a voice just above and behind his head.

"You have a-"

Alikath shouted, spun around, and let loose his cantrip; a spray of colorful acid spritzing the roof.

The rainbow mist hit the face of an large humanoid bird, who reeled back and fell onto his wings, flat against the carriage. "AAGH-!"

Another thunk as the bird sprawled out on the wooden roof, desperately wiping the noxious liquid from his face and eyes. The rest of the party spilled out of the vehicle, looking around the area, not quite able to see the stranger on the roof.

It was an Aarakocra; a humanoid bird creature with features resembling a great white eagle. Though some Aarakocra came speckled with partial feathers of grey, brown, and in rare instances, black. From what little Alikath saw, this one didn't seem to have any accents of the sort.

"AH!" The bird wailed. "Acid! You- you threw acid at me! It's in my- fuck- why!? Why did you- click- why did you do that!?"

Alikath lowered his hands, dismissing the cantrip, still processing the Aarakocra's reaction. "Uh… a- are you okay?"

"NO! IT HURTS! Whistle- IT- click- MY EYES, MAN!"

Alikath blushed, and whispered to the rest of the group. "It was just a cantrip."

"What are you doing on our carriage?" Fletch did a little hop, hoping he could jump high enough to see this stranger.

The Aarakocra spent a few more moments writhing in pain, before sitting up to address the group. He spoke, still obsessively picking at and wiping the acid from his feathers. "You have a weapon on top- fuck- of your carriage! I was making sure you knew it was there!"

Amira put her hands on her hips and quickly looked away from everyone, but felt Artemis drilling a hole into her head. She hung her head back, and groaned. "It's inconveniently big! I know that! It works when it works, ah?"

"I needed to check your carriage any- anyway," The bird went on. "I'm looking for- click- I'm looking- click- shit- I'm sorry, I-"

The Aarakocra picked frantically at his skin. Even though he was mostly dry, whatever vapors that still lingered were bothering him.

Fletch stared at the Aarakocra from the back of the group. Similar to the Kenku, he was feathered everywhere from the knees down, which were hard dull sticks attached to talons. But the two did not look alike; Aarakocra were much taller, with curved beaks and, at least in this case, smooth and less ruffled feathers.

Fletch felt a tingling shame wander his spine as he fixated on the stranger's most significant racial difference, sprouting from his shoulders: a set of wide, majestic wings stretched and twitched and caught the sun in their milky feathers. Fletch winced- they were like mirrors for the sunlight.

"We have a cleric with us," Alikath gestured to Rosellia. "Would it help if she healed you up a little?"

"I- mm- think so," The bird said. He hit his forehead lightly with his wrist and twitched. Then, he jumped off the carriage, fluttered his wings, and landed next to Rosellia.

The stranger was a bit scrawnier than most Aarakocra, which wasn't saying much. Aarakocra were the undisputed greatest race of warriors known to Solevi, but that might was not shown through their mass, as it was with Goliaths. Aarakocra soldiers possessed a potential for strength so disproportionate to their neighbors that some folklore and scripture considered them a race hand-crafted by the gods as holy protectors.

He was a young bird, just past the cusp of adulthood. The feathers atop his crown stuck up like a headdress, making him a little fluffier than most his kind. He was not dressed in the generic leather armor that nearly all Aarakocra wore; instead wearing scholarly robes, its folds and scarves hanging over themselves with deep greens, purples, and blues. On one hip, he had a tome satcheled to his side. On the other, a small wooden staff.

Rosellia held her hands up, and concentrated on her healing magic. But as soon as the golden light appeared, she stopped, and grunted. She lowered her hands, and lifted them back up, repeating this motion a few times over, to the party's confusion.

“Mmh- stop… stop it,” Rosellia hissed to herself.

“What are you doing?” Fletch asked.

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"What?" Amira asked. "Why not?"

Rosellia pointed at Artemis. "I- I want her gone."

Artemis furrowed their brow. "Not a her."

"Well I want it gone! I can't- I can't focus right now."

Artemis sighed. "I'm not gonna shoot you, Rosellia, you don't-"

"Get away from me or I don't cast the FUCKING spell!"

Rosellia's posture changed; her fingers bent, her eyes narrowed, her back arched just a little further than it usually did. Even Artemis, who had known her for such a short time, realized that wasn't normal.

They held up their hands, and backed away. "Fine. Be in the carriage."

Artemis climbed back in through the door. Rosellia took a breath, and corrected her posture. She held her hands back up, and finally healed the Aarakocra, who's every muscle was tense in an effort to stand still. She muttered a short Aquan hymn under her breath, not wanting to waste the group's time.

Once the spell had taken effect, The Aarakocra felt his face, and nodded. His wings fluttered jovially. "Still a little tingly," he said, and trilled.

"So who are you?" Fletch asked.

"My name's Dez! Are you the Ambassadors?"

The Ambassadors collectively 'a-ha'd, and nodded to volunteer Dez Ta-Or.

"Good! You're the fifth carriage I've landed on today. You wouldn't believe how hostile people can get."

"You were jumping on carriages all day?" Asked Alikath.

"Well, obviously! What if you were early? What if I missed you?"

"Why didn't ye just wait for us at Graycove, then?" Amira asked.

"What if you were late?"

Amira opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the right words, so she closed it back and shook her head.

Dez and Rosellia looked at each other again, both politely smiling while their torsos just barely avoided facing one another. Whereas Aquatics like Rosellia ruled Lyveria, a kingdom beneath the waves, Aarakocra were the founders and dominating inhabitants of Heavenfell- the great skybound archipelago; a litany of massive islands pulled up from the Land District and magically suspended among the clouds.

Dez broke eye contact with Rosellia, and trilled to everyone else. "Well I'm glad I found you! Are we going to Chesknot now?"

"Yeah… we are," Alikath nodded, and the group returned to the carriage.

Dez jumped when he looked at Fletch, having just noticed him hiding at the back of the line. "Oh, hello!" he leaned in to get closer to Fletch's eye level. "Are you a Vagrant, too?"

"No, I live in the woods," said Fletch, hopping into the car without returning eye contact.

"Oh," Dez nodded. "Wait, what about the axe?"

"Leave it," Amira said from inside.

"Oh," Dez cocked his head. Obeying orders, he hopped in the carriage with everyone else.